


An Immortals Spiral of Insanity

by Firelmp, peterpeterpumkineater



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insanity, Killing, Mentions of Rape, aph states
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firelmp/pseuds/Firelmp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterpeterpumkineater/pseuds/peterpeterpumkineater
Summary: Alfred is a very protective nation when it comes to his states, but even more so when it comes to his smaller states. so his Big Brother mode is sent into overdrive when he finds his smallest state, Rhode Island, Rhody for short, in Auschwitz, a brutal Nazi concentration camp. this one discovery and ultimate salvation for the small state starts the two and various others that get involved in a brutal train ride through the late 1940's and early 50's, with the ultimate question of how much can the two go through before Rhody just gives up altogether and Alfred just stops trying to help.





	1. Chapter 1

Alfred wandered through the camp, the smell of burning corpses spreading through the remains of the camp, then again, it was probably normal here, the crematorium probably had been burning on and off for the better part of four years, since the war started and the dictatorial regime had initiated his plan, the ‘final solution’ Hitler called it. He stepped over the bits of debris, even the occasional corpse that littered the ground. He couldn’t tell whether or not it was a victim or a perpetrator, at this point, it didn't matter, the American were here, no more damned inhumane acts were going to be done any longer, hot here, not anywhere once they made it to Berlin.  
Alfred stepped into one of hundred brown mortar buildings in the concentration camp. Rows upon rows of them most had already been searched for survivors, only really the hospital had any, and a few labs and adjacent bunk houses, that were filled with kids and the dying. It broke his heart to see, his mind flying back to his own kids, his states, some of which were fighting in the war, on the front lines, taking care of the wounded as nurses. God, he hated that they were probably seeing this. Despite that it was worth the effort it took to stop the camp from staying active, no matter how many lives he lost, he had to have hope that more would be saved.  
“Is anyone there?” He called out in German from the entrance. Nothing yet, he cursed under his breath. While no matter what, shutting this place down was a huge victory, it still would’ve been good to find more than a handful of living. But he knew there were others, on the way up here his platoon had liberated two other camps just as bad, and he knew the Canadians had handled their fair share, same with the rest of the allies. There seemed to be no end to the horrors the Nazis came up with. He walked down the rows of most likely empty buildings, calling out every once in awhile, even though he knew the only inhabitants where the corpses of the dead, the maggots that fed on what was left of their flesh and the rats that fed on the maggots, but still he was not ready to give up. 

 

He walked to the end of the row and pushed open a heavy metal door to a laboratory. The tiled floor, which Alfred assumed had once been a sterile medical white, was now stained with dirt and blood, and footprints in both. Alfred grimaced, this was a medical facility. He didn’t like calling it that, hospitals were supposed to heal damage, not cause them. Slaughterhouse was a more accurate description. He passed different doors, some metal, some solid wood, others were hanging off their hinges, and others where open. He could see claw marks on the walls and doors, some were stained with blood. He could imagine the people screaming until their voices gave out for help, scratching at the walls until their fingertips bleed. He couldn’t help but wonder how many times people had tried and failed to escape this stinking place,or how skewed the official books of Auschwitz’s death toll books where it had to be more than the few thousand the books recorded. He entered one room, cleaner than some of the others, and looked out a barred window. Grey purple smoke was rising behind some trees in the distance. He didn’t have to imagine the smell, it had seeped into the walls of the place long ago, and was still poisoning the air around the area. Burning flesh was particular in its pervasiveness. He left the room, shaking his head in a mixture of disgust and depression. He came to a junction of hallways and called out again. For a moment his voice echoed down the halls, it was eerie, hearing his own voice bounce around the building, then he imagined how the screams of the damned sounded as they echoed through the same hallway, goosebumps pricked at the sleeves of uniform at the thought. He was expecting silence as his only response, so when Alfred heard a weak whimper he almost jumped out of his skin.

 

“Where are you?” He called in German. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna find you.” He ran down a corridor, doing his best to follow the sound. Another cry sounded, weaker than before, but closer. “Please, keep making noise, I’m close.” A strange metallic clanging banged around his head, stinging his ears, but he followed the sound to another room. When he walked in, the first thing that bombarded his senses was the stench of rotten blood and shit, but what he saw made the reality worse.  
Lying on a table in the back of the room was a body, though it almost didn't look like one anymore. Blood was dripping in a steady flow on the shiny steel into one of the several puddles. There were wheel tracks crisscrossing the floor from when presumably doctors had been rushing around either performing procedures on her or hurrying to get out before they were captured.  
He went up to the girl lying on the table. She was tied down to it with heavy leather straps, and deep gouges and cuts lined her abdomen, arms, and legs. He looked down her nervously, hoping beyond all hopes that she was conscious still.  
“Hey, hey,” He said softly. She was in worse shape than anyone they had found yet so that fact she was only on the brink of death and not dead was a miracle. “Stay with me, it’s gonna be alright, I’m here now. Don’t worry.” He undid the belts keeping her down. He knew clearly that she wouldn’t be able to walk, the extent of the wounds to her body wasn't even fully determinable because of the blood. Her hair was caked with it, obscuring any color other than the color of congealed blood.  
The girl’s eyes cracked open, a stormy gray-blue. Somehow he knew those eyes. They stared at him for half a second longer before recognition flared within them.  
“Al-fre-?” She croaked,really it was more like squeaked, her voice barely a broken whisper. He fingers hardly twitched at her side, almost as if she wanted to reach out to him.  
He gasped, looking up at her, studying her face, the gaunt cheek the sunken eyes, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t “Rhody?” The small flash of light in the girl's dull blue eyes confirmed his fears. How? How did she get here? What exactly had they done to her for her to be in this state? She didn't even really look human, more like a skeleton with a thin sheet of skin draped tightly over it. How long had she been here? He knew that the other states had lost contact with her a while ago, the best estimates were put at when Arthur’s platoon had been ambushed and after he survived he was pulled out of active combat, but Alfred never would’ve thought that it was because she’d come here, he had assumed she had escaped, and was somewhere safe in Switzerland or something, waiting for the war to be over so she could get a safe ride back to the continent.. The whole scenario took on a whole different type of urgency. He jumped into action. Later on, he wouldn’t recall much of these moments beyond a blur of desperation and worry with a little bit of panic and brotherly instinct thrown in for good measure. He threw open the cabinets behind the table until he found a thin paper sheet and he laid it over her naked body.  
“It’s gonna be okay Rhody, I’m here now, we’re gonna get you out of here, it’s okay.” He repeated the mantra over and over again as he wheeled her out of the building as fast as it was safe to, the wheels of the gurney making fresh trails through the puddles.  
Through all of it, Rhody didn’t make any sound. Through a haze of pain and half consciousness, she was aware he was there, but she was afraid to believe it. She’d seen this play out in the moments before a death countless times. Him sweeping in to save her, to bring her home. And always, just a few hours later she would wake up to find them touching her, cutting her open, killing her again and again. How was she supposed to know this was even real?  
“Stay with me Sis, the base isn’t far, it’s gonna be alright, I promise, just hold on.” He said, breathless. He pushed the cart out of the building and rushed it down the road to his camp. They could save her there, they had to.  
The guard stopped him at the entrance, asking why he had brought back a body, he had to fight to convince them that she was still alive, it was only when she cracked her eyes open again that they believed him. When a set of women and white rushed over and pulled Rhody away, out of his sight and into a white tent he tried to run after them, only to find his way blocked by another woman.  
“I’m afraid you can’t go in there sir, that’s where the worst are, their states are too fragile, they can’t be disturbed. We’ll send someone to you when she can be seen.” She said seriously, though her voice had empathy, it laid down the line. “We’ll do our best, I promise, but you have to let us work.”  
Alfred nodded after a long moment and she followed after the others inside the tent. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping to ease the anxiety that was flowing through him. Rhody would be okay, she had to be okay. He had finally found her, he had to learn how she got there in the first place, help take care of her, bring her back home. He had known that she’d wanted to come to help, but he’d tried to keep her home, afraid that exactly this was going to happen. He remembered the argument well.  
_“Alfred, you know I can help, I did back during the revolution, you would’ve died without me, tons of people would’ve. You have to let me come!” Rhody yelled, her face going pink with rage._  
“No, what if you get captured, a personification? They would want you more than they’d want an Aryan, I can’t let you, you can help with the people that come home, they need it just as much. Do you remember how many times you almost died back then? No.” Alfred Elle's at her, stern. They had had this argument a few times before, this time he was putting his foot down.  
“I can be of more help there! Alfred, don’t be stupid, you know I’m right! Let me come with you! What about Virginia, Mark, Nick?”  
“No.” He turned away from her, down the stairs, leaving her at the top with her suitcase. __  
Maybe if he’d just let her come with him in the first place this wouldn’t have happened. If he’d just listened, maybe she had been right. Maybe Virginia was the one treating her. There really wasn’t a way to know yet, but he would find out.  
Alfred turned away from the tent, there wasn’t anything more he could do. He had to tell Mark and Nick. He had a feeling that they would want to be all the more involved in the interrogation. Alfred himself was beginning to overcome the initial moments of shock and shifting over to rage. It boiled in his veins as he stalked over another tent.  
He swept open the flap of the entrance. Mark and Nick stood with some other men in uniform. They looked thoughtful and were drawing various lines on the map that was spread out on the table before them. Nick looked up at him and gave Mark a nudge.  
“What are you doing here?” He waved away the other men, who grumbled with aggravated surprise till they saw Alfred in the door and then proceeded past him in respectful silence.  
“I found her.” He voice flat, covering the emotions he felt with a shiny gloss of steel. “They’ve had Rhody. I don’t know for how long.”  
Mark's’ mouth fell open and his body froze as the gravity of the statement sank in.  
Nick went stiff, eyes worried but trying to keep it together, “wh-what? How-”  
“Where is she?” Mark's voice was stiff, colder than Alfred's. his shock quickly turning to rage. There was murder in his eyes. “Answer me Alfred. Where. Is. she.” He was ordering him like an interrogator asking for vital information. Actually, Alfred supposed that allegory wasn't that off.  
Alfred shook his head, trying to clear the anger, Mark was angry enough for the both of them, Massachusetts was even more protective of Rhode Island then Alfred was. “She's in the medical tent. I wouldn't bother trying to get in, though. I tried already, they didn't let me in.”  
Mark stormed out, fists clenched to his side in rage and jaw set. Alfred let him go, a little afraid he would get sucker punched in the jaw if he tried to stop him.  
“How bad is she?” Nick asked, worry quickly turning to rage, but his eyes were still softer than Marks.  
Again, Alfred shook his head, “I couldn't tell for sure, but bad. Worse than anyone else we saved from here I would reckon'.”  
Nick nodded, starting to walk out but instead giving Alfred's shoulder a reassuring pat, “Try to relax, focus on getting the rest of the camp settled. The last thing we need is all three of us flying into a rage over this. Nothing will get done.” He didn't wait for Alfred to give him affirmation before walking out.

__

The sun was rising when the howls and grunts of pain from the tent where the few prisoners were being held stopped, at least momentarily. Sometime around midnight, Alfred had started wondering if his two states where getting any information at all, then he really didn't give a shit. The damn ‘doctors’ deserved it, they were inhumane go so many including his Rhode Island , might as well let's other two states be inhumane to them.  
But now in the quiet of the dawn, with the camp in an uneasy sleep, Alfred had nothing to do, and his mind wandered to Rhody, again. How she had gotten here, how long she had been here, how he could have prevented her from being here.  
His legs were cramped and the cold of fall was seeping through his uniform, he had been on night watch. There was no way he was sleeping that night. Not with the verdict on whether Rhody would live or die up in the air like it was. He didn't even know if Virginia was treating her, or if she even knew Rhody was there. The feeling of useless had hung heavy over him all through the night.  
“Alfred Frederick Jones!” The stern shout broke the silence if the red and orange sunrise that Alfred was watching. he didn't have to turn to see Virginia storming towards him, brown eyes angry and puffy red from lack of sleep, sandy blond hair, usually done up in a neat bun nowadays, falling out in strands and frizzled. She forced him to turn to face her, slapping him in the face before anything else, “Why the hell did you let her come over here?! Why the hell is she here? Why did you let this happen...oh god how did we let this happen.” Her anger quickly dissipated into tears as she questioned him, easily collapsing into his chest, sobbing. He held her close, the blood of the wounded on her uniform and hands smearing into his own, he didn't really care. She had tended to Rhody, Alfred realized, and the blood was hers. Alfred held her close, running calloused fingers through her hair, working it out of the sorry remains of its bun and all the knots that came with it.  
Alfred let her cry into his chest, forcing back his own tears. He would cry later, right now he was focused on the crying sibling in his arms. He doesn't say anything. There wasn't anything too say. Virginia knew more about Rhody’s condition than him so it's not like he could tell her Rhody would be okay. So he waited, giving silent support to Virginia, praying Rhody would recover.  
The sun had turned the sky from burning fires to a bright blue, almost mocking Alfred and his family's pain, the plums of smoke and the scent of burnt body's hung heavy in the air. Just as the camp was waking up Virgina pulled away. Looking up at her nation with a tear stained face, her eyes immediately went to the red handprint on his cheek. “Oh, Alfred… I'm so sorry..” she breathed gently thumbing the warm skin, smearing flakes of dried blood over it.  
“It's fine Ginny, I'm alright.” He pulled her hand away, inspecting it for small cuts and picking at the dried blood, flaking it off, “Are you alright? You've been up all night.” _And tending to Rhody _hung unspoken between them.__  
She nodded using her other hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear, “I'm fine, exhausted, but fine. I don't want to sleep, though, I don't want to leave her alone.”  
“Is she really that bad?” He didn't want the answer.  
Virginia nodded “Whatever they did to her, it left her too weak. She's in and out, on the edge of dying. She was unconscious when I left….I don't want her to die again, Alfred. She doesn't deserve it. She deserves to live.” Her explanation brought tears to her eyes again, her breath hitching.  
Alfred hushed her again, pulling her into another hug, “Rhody's strong, she'll pull through. She's going to get better. She's going to get better.” He repeated more to reassure himself than her at this point. He blinked back burning tears, he would cry later,his tears coming in the blood of his enemies rather than right now with salty tears and red eyes.  
It was Virgina that pulled away frost, whipping fresh tears from her eyes, “Oh lord, look at me. Crying again when I should be tending to my little sister.” Her laugh was half-hearted, more of an after cry hiccup than a laugh anyhow.  
Alfred rubbed her shoulder, “you're allowed to cry you know. Aloud to take a break too. You've done more for her than the rest of us combined.”  
Virginia shook her head, “You found her. If you hadn’t, then who knows how long she would be continually dying here.”  
That's when the missing piece of greasing fell into place, that's what made his heart really pick up and a tear tool down his paling, realizing face. Because Virginia was right. If no one had found Rhody then she would have been here for a long, long time. Her wounds festering into infections, her muscles wasting away as she starved for even longer. When, no, if whoever found her, didn't bury her on the spot, and acknowledged that she wasn't dead, then it would be a long, very long, so very long, road to recovery. If that had happened then he didn't think he, any of them really, would recognize their small state.  
It hit him then. All the weight of what was going on. The pain that Rhody felt a sudden flare before fading into a dull ache. He stumbled back, leaning against the chain link fence surrounding the camp, hands on his knees as he breathed heavy, the emotions of the states closest to him hitting jo full force. Virginia's worry as she came forward to gently massaged his shoulders. Marks unmatched rage, the need for revenge, a fighting drive Alfred haven't felt since the revolution burning through him. Nick's anger was almost overshadowed by Marks, always more level headed, the brains behind Marks anger. And then the wave of pain, of hunger, of the fresh stitches and infected wounds that were from Rhody, he felt sick the pain was so bad, oh god, oh god. How was she living like this?  
Virginia as thumbs wiping away his tears brought him back to reality, somewhat at least. He could still feel the physical and emotional aspects of his states, he always could. It was always hovering in the background of his mind. “Can we go see her?” He asked through the sick feeling.  
She nodded, following him as he began to walk away, first to get Mark and Nick, then to see Rhody. “I'm coming with you.”  
Alfred rounded on her then, not angry, but stern “No, your not.” He sighed when he saw how determined she was “at least grab some food and a coffee first, then after we leave, you're going to sleep.” She started to protest but stopped when he held a hand up, “You won't be any help to Rhody if you pass out from exhaustion. Now go get some food. You deserve it.” He kissed her forehead, pushing her to the food tent before heading to the tent Mark and Nick were. 

______The tent where the prisoners were being kept was made of a black cloth, so no one could see in it out. And Alfred thought it was for the best once he walked in and saw the six prisoners all curled up into themselves, faces bleeding and bruises over their bare chest. His two states where sitting, exhausted, at the small desk in the corner of the tent. Massachusetts with his head down, exhaustion finally overcoming the rage that was still burning in him, and Nick scribbling down some notes in a small notebook, looking just as tired as his dozing brother.  
Alfred cleared his throat, getting his state's attention. Both looked up and turned to him, squinting at the sunlight flooding the dark tent, one of the prisoners looked up at him too. Studying Alfred with hungry eyes. Alfred braved the tent, well aware of the prisoner's eyes on him, and his state's willingness to jump to his defense if anything happened.  
“Got anything useful from these bastards?” He decided to start with.  
Nick shook his head, Mark was still half awake. “These guys were mostly working in the hospital and were ordered to burn as much evidence as possible. They didn't even know Rhody was her, much less what she was. Seems like even in the ranks secrets were kept.” Nick glared at the prisoner that was still looking up at Alfred.  
“Du bist aryan nicht wahr? Warum arbeitest du mit ihnen Sie sind besser als si-” the prisoner didn't get a chance to finish what he was saying. Alfred turned and kicked him in the jaw, his super strength breaking it with a little crack.  
“Ich bin nicht besser als jeder andere, außer dir, du schmutziges Tier.” Alfred spat, his vicious tone making his states sit up a bit straighter. It was very rare that Alfred got mad. It happened so rarely that even the oldest states could count on one hand how often it had happened.  
Alfred's outburst sent the prisoner cowering back into a corner, his jaw hanging limply. “Go get someone to watch these animals. We're going to see Rhody once you do.” He growled at his state's, glaring down at the prisoners. Pure power seemed to be radiating off of him. This was the super power he was, the part of himself he kept tight under wraps. He knew the rest of the world would be afraid of him if this was the Alfred that saw all the time. His own states scurried out to follow his orders. This was not an Alfred to argue with, they knew that.  
Mark and nick returned with guards in tow a few minutes later. Alfred let go of his threading aura once he was out of the tent.  
“So you know how bad?” Mark asked he looked much older than his physical age of 16.  
Alfred shook his head. The dull throbbing pain that was emanating from Rhody in the back of his mind did not bode well. The three of them didn't say another word as they walked to the tent that she was being held in. 

____ _ _

_______Alfred wanted to walk out as soon as he walked in. The stench of death was suffocating. Tired nurses and whatever soldiers they could spare were taking out dead bodies, emaciated and starved bodies. Most of them children, groaning in pain, in a rough sleep that threatened death, weakly reaching out to anyone for comfort. This was where Rhody was. In a tent where ninety percent of the children in it were going to die. The sick feeling from before returned, and only got worse when he saw a glint of his sisters choppy, close-cropped orange hair, the grime had been combed away so some of the colors shone through. But it was still dirty and blood mangled. Her skin which was normally pale but with a healthy glow looked almost translucent, at least the parts that you could see, the rest of her was covered in blood-stained gauze, her wounds still bleeding._  
Mark noticed her a split second after Alfred did. Rushing over to his sister's side before coming to a dead stop, uncertain as to what to do, Nick close on his heals and Alfred appearing on the other side of the low cot. She looked like a mummy.  
They stared down at her. None of them wanting to believe it was her. But it was undeniable. They could feel that it was her, thus was their sister. This was the end of her hell.  
“Oh god…” Mark breathed sinking to his knees, gently taking her bandaged hand. “What did they do to you, Rhody? What did they do?” Mark was speaking for all of them, but at the same time there was so much left unsaid, no combination of words could really express all of what they felt.  
“I'm going to kill him.” Nick forced out through clenched teeth, Alfred tore his eyes from their sister to look at his other state. Hands clenched at his side New York was in a rage. And with him being a strong state economically and technically the biggest out of the original thirteen his anger could wreak more havoc than Massachusetts. “I'm going to kill Ludwig. He did this, he knew who she was. I'm going to kill him for hurting her.” Nick's eyes told Alfred that he was serious.  
“You're not killing anyone right now.” Virginia came bustling in, looking a bit more put together than the last time Alfred had seen her.  
“How bad is she?” Mark asked, voice pleading, he was with family, he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. “Please, we need to know.”  
Virginia didn't answer for a moment, focusing on unwrapping the bloody bandage around Rhody's thin thigh revealing the deep, stitched up, a gash in it. She only started talking when she was wrapping it up, “I can't beat around the bush. She's bad. I'm surprised she's alive right now. But then again, she's stubborn.” Virginia allowed herself a reminiscent smile. “To break it down, from what we can tell she has infections in several places, some internal bleeding and hemorrhaging, that could cause problems. Burns, acid burns, frostbite. You name it she's got it. These bastards did a number on her. But that's just our evaluation, she could, probably does, have a lot more wrong with her. A doctor in London will need to look at her.”  
They were quiet, letting the information sink in. They imagined the horrors their sister was put through, they couldn't, not without wanting to punch Ludwig in the jaw.  
“We need to get her away from the front,” Mark said like it was an easy thing.  
“Mark, we can't. She's too… fragile, for lack of a better word. If we move her then….” she wouldn't say the obvious, she couldn't say ‘she'll die’.  
“Then we move the front away from her. Push farther into Germany, meet up with the English or Canadians or Russians.” Mark was getting desperate now, wide-eyed and basically pleading to do this impossible thing.  
Alfred shook his head, “Mark you know that's harder than it sounds. It goes against our pla-”  
“Like hell, I give a damn about the plans!” Mark shouted standing letting Rhody’s hand fall to the bed, turning on Alfred, “We need to end this war and tear these damn camps apart, make sure no one else has to fucking live through this hell.”  
Nick put a restraining hand on his brother's shoulder, “That's enough Mark. We shouldn't be getting worked up over this.”  
“Like hell, we shouldn't! There are people dying, hoards if people. It's not right. And the sooner this war is over with the sooner those people can get help. It just so happened that Rhody is the worst out of all of them.” He was getting mad, glaring at Nick and throwing his hand off. He was about to start shouting, Alfred had to step in then. Reaching over Rhody in the cot to cover Mark’s mouth.  
“If you two are going to argue about this, so it somewhere else. This is not the time nor the place for it.” Alfred's threatening aura was coming back, seeping into his stern voice. He watched as the anger dissipated from his state's shoulders.  
Seeing that there would be no further arguing Alfred let go of Mark. Going to sit back down and take Rhody’s hand again. Wishing against reality that she was awake to bicker with them. But no, real life was just that cruel. And now all they could do was wait.  
The rest of the war was fought in a haze of worry filled rage. Translations you're aryan aren't you? why are you working with them? you're better than them! I'm no better than anyone but you, you filthy animal 


	2. When a World War Ends, a Personal War Begins

Alfred wandered through the camp, the smell of burning corpses spreading through the remains of the camp, then again, it was probably normal here, the crematorium probably had been burning on and off for the better part of four years, since the war started and the dictatorial regime had initiated his plan, the ‘final solution’ Hitler called it. He stepped over the bits of debris, even the occasional corpse that littered the ground. He couldn’t tell whether or not it was a victim or a perpetrator, at this point, it didn't matter, the American were here, no more damned inhumane acts were going to be done any longer, hot here, not anywhere once they made it to Berlin.  
Alfred stepped into one of hundred brown mortar buildings in the concentration camp. Rows upon rows of them most had already been searched for survivors, only really the hospital had any, and a few labs and adjacent bunk houses, that were filled with kids and the dying. It broke his heart to see, his mind flying back to his own kids, his states, some of which were fighting in the war, on the front lines, taking care of the wounded as nurses. God, he hated that they were probably seeing this. Despite that it was worth the effort it took to stop the camp from staying active, no matter how many lives he lost, he had to have hope that more would be saved.   
“Is anyone there?” He called out in German from the entrance. Nothing yet, he cursed under his breath. While no matter what, shutting this place down was a huge victory, it still would’ve been good to find more than a handful of living. But he knew there were others, on the way up here his platoon had liberated two other camps just as bad, and he knew the Canadians had handled their fair share, same with the rest of the allies. There seemed to be no end to the horrors the Nazis came up with. He walked down the rows of most likely empty buildings, calling out every once in awhile, even though he knew the only inhabitants where the corpses of the dead, the maggots that fed on what was left of their flesh and the rats that fed on the maggots, but still he was not ready to give up. 

 

He walked to the end of the row and pushed open a heavy metal door to a laboratory. The tiled floor, which Alfred assumed had once been a sterile medical white, was now stained with dirt and blood, and footprints in both. Alfred grimaced, this was a medical facility. He didn’t like calling it that, hospitals were supposed to heal damage, not cause them. Slaughterhouse was a more accurate description. He passed different doors, some metal, some solid wood, others were hanging off their hinges, and others where open. He could see claw marks on the walls and doors, some were stained with blood. He could imagine the people screaming until their voices gave out for help, scratching at the walls until their fingertips bleed. He couldn’t help but wonder how many times people had tried and failed to escape this stinking place,or how skewed the official books of Auschwitz’s death toll books where it had to be more than the few thousand the books recorded. He entered one room, cleaner than some of the others, and looked out a barred window. Grey purple smoke was rising behind some trees in the distance. He didn’t have to imagine the smell, it had seeped into the walls of the place long ago, and was still poisoning the air around the area. Burning flesh was particular in its pervasiveness. He left the room, shaking his head in a mixture of disgust and depression. He came to a junction of hallways and called out again. For a moment his voice echoed down the halls, it was eerie, hearing his own voice bounce around the building, then he imagined how the screams of the damned sounded as they echoed through the same hallway, goosebumps pricked at the sleeves of uniform at the thought. He was expecting silence as his only response, so when Alfred heard a weak whimper he almost jumped out of his skin.  
“Where are you?” He called in German. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna find you.” He ran down a corridor, doing his best to follow the sound. Another cry sounded, weaker than before, but closer. “Please, keep making noise, I’m close.” A strange metallic clanging banged around his head, stinging his ears, but he followed the sound to another room. When he walked in, the first thing that bombarded his senses was the stench of rotten blood and shit, but what he saw made the reality worse.   
Lying on a table in the back of the room was a body, though it almost didn't look like one anymore. Blood was dripping in a steady flow on the shiny steel into one of the several puddles. There were wheel tracks crisscrossing the floor from when presumably doctors had been rushing around either performing procedures on her or hurrying to get out before they were captured.   
He went up to the girl lying on the table. She was tied down to it with heavy leather straps, and deep gouges and cuts lined her abdomen, arms, and legs. He looked down her nervously, hoping beyond all hopes that she was conscious still.  
“Hey, hey,” He said softly. She was in worse shape than anyone they had found yet so that fact she was only on the brink of death and not dead was a miracle. “Stay with me, it’s gonna be alright, I’m here now. Don’t worry.” He undid the belts keeping her down. He knew clearly that she wouldn’t be able to walk, the extent of the wounds to her body wasn't even fully determinable because of the blood. Her hair was caked with it, obscuring any color other than the color of congealed blood.  
The girl’s eyes cracked open, a stormy gray-blue. Somehow he knew those eyes. They stared at him for half a second longer before recognition flared within them.   
“Al-fre-?” She croaked,really it was more like squeaked, her voice barely a broken whisper. He fingers hardly twitched at her side, almost as if she wanted to reach out to him.  
He gasped, looking up at her, studying her face, the gaunt cheek the sunken eyes, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t “Rhody?” The small flash of light in the girl's dull blue eyes confirmed his fears. How? How did she get here? What exactly had they done to her for her to be in this state? She didn't even really look human, more like a skeleton with a thin sheet of skin draped tightly over it. How long had she been here? He knew that the other states had lost contact with her a while ago, the best estimates were put at when Arthur’s platoon had been ambushed and after he survived he was pulled out of active combat, but Alfred never would’ve thought that it was because she’d come here, he had assumed she had escaped, and was somewhere safe in Switzerland or something, waiting for the war to be over so she could get a safe ride back to the continent.. The whole scenario took on a whole different type of urgency. He jumped into action. Later on, he wouldn’t recall much of these moments beyond a blur of desperation and worry with a little bit of panic and brotherly instinct thrown in for good measure. He threw open the cabinets behind the table until he found a thin paper sheet and he laid it over her naked body.  
“It’s gonna be okay Rhody, I’m here now, we’re gonna get you out of here, it’s okay.” He repeated the mantra over and over again as he wheeled her out of the building as fast as it was safe to, the wheels of the gurney making fresh trails through the puddles.  
Through all of it, Rhody didn’t make any sound. Through a haze of pain and half consciousness, she was aware he was there, but she was afraid to believe it. She’d seen this play out in the moments before a death countless times. Him sweeping in to save her, to bring her home. And always, just a few hours later she would wake up to find them touching her, cutting her open, killing her again and again. How was she supposed to know this was even real?  
“Stay with me Sis, the base isn’t far, it’s gonna be alright, I promise, just hold on.” He said, breathless. He pushed the cart out of the building and rushed it down the road to his camp. They could save her there, they had to.   
The guard stopped him at the entrance, asking why he had brought back a body, he had to fight to convince them that she was still alive, it was only when she cracked her eyes open again that they believed him. When a set of women and white rushed over and pulled Rhody away, out of his sight and into a white tent he tried to run after them, only to find his way blocked by another woman.   
“I’m afraid you can’t go in there sir, that’s where the worst are, their states are too fragile, they can’t be disturbed. We’ll send someone to you when she can be seen.” She said seriously, though her voice had empathy, it laid down the line. “We’ll do our best, I promise, but you have to let us work.”   
Alfred nodded after a long moment and she followed after the others inside the tent. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping to ease the anxiety that was flowing through him. Rhody would be okay, she had to be okay. He had finally found her, he had to learn how she got there in the first place, help take care of her, bring her back home. He had known that she’d wanted to come to help, but he’d tried to keep her home, afraid that exactly this was going to happen. He remembered the argument well.  
“Alfred, you know I can help, I did back during the revolution, you would’ve died without me, tons of people would’ve. You have to let me come!” Rhody yelled, her face going pink with rage.  
“No, what if you get captured, a personification? They would want you more than they’d want an Aryan, I can’t let you, you can help with the people that come home, they need it just as much. Do you remember how many times you almost died back then? No.” Alfred Elle's at her, stern. They had had this argument a few times before, this time he was putting his foot down.   
“I can be of more help there! Alfred, don’t be stupid, you know I’m right! Let me come with you! What about Virginia, Mark, Nick?”   
“No.” He turned away from her, down the stairs, leaving her at the top with her suitcase.  
Maybe if he’d just let her come with him in the first place this wouldn’t have happened. If he’d just listened, maybe she had been right. Maybe Virginia was the one treating her. There really wasn’t a way to know yet, but he would find out.   
Alfred turned away from the tent, there wasn’t anything more he could do. He had to tell Mark and Nick. He had a feeling that they would want to be all the more involved in the interrogation. Alfred himself was beginning to overcome the initial moments of shock and shifting over to rage. It boiled in his veins as he stalked over another tent.   
He swept open the flap of the entrance. Mark and Nick stood with some other men in uniform. They looked thoughtful and were drawing various lines on the map that was spread out on the table before them. Nick looked up at him and gave Mark a nudge.  
“What are you doing here?” He waved away the other men, who grumbled with aggravated surprise till they saw Alfred in the door and then proceeded past him in respectful silence.  
“I found her.” He voice flat, covering the emotions he felt with a shiny gloss of steel. “They’ve had Rhody. I don’t know for how long.”  
Mark's’ mouth fell open and his body froze as the gravity of the statement sank in.  
Nick went stiff, eyes worried but trying to keep it together, “wh-what? How-”  
“Where is she?” Mark's voice was stiff, colder than Alfred's. his shock quickly turning to rage. There was murder in his eyes. “Answer me Alfred. Where. Is. she.” He was ordering him like an interrogator asking for vital information. Actually, Alfred supposed that allegory wasn't that off.  
Alfred shook his head, trying to clear the anger, Mark was angry enough for the both of them, Massachusetts was even more protective of Rhode Island then Alfred was. “She's in the medical tent. I wouldn't bother trying to get in, though. I tried already, they didn't let me in.”  
Mark stormed out, fists clenched to his side in rage and jaw set. Alfred let him go, a little afraid he would get sucker punched in the jaw if he tried to stop him.  
“How bad is she?” Nick asked, worry quickly turning to rage, but his eyes were still softer than Marks.  
Again, Alfred shook his head, “I couldn't tell for sure, but bad. Worse than anyone else we saved from here I would reckon'.”  
Nick nodded, starting to walk out but instead giving Alfred's shoulder a reassuring pat, “Try to relax, focus on getting the rest of the camp settled. The last thing we need is all three of us flying into a rage over this. Nothing will get done.” He didn't wait for Alfred to give him affirmation before walking out.

 

 

The sun was rising when the howls and grunts of pain from the tent where the few prisoners were being held stopped, at least momentarily. Sometime around midnight, Alfred had started wondering if his two states where getting any information at all, then he really didn't give a shit. The damn ‘doctors’ deserved it, they were inhumane go so many including his Rhode Island , might as well let's other two states be inhumane to them.  
But now in the quiet of the dawn, with the camp in an uneasy sleep, Alfred had nothing to do, and his mind wandered to Rhody, again. How she had gotten here, how long she had been here, how he could have prevented her from being here.   
His legs were cramped and the cold of fall was seeping through his uniform, he had been on night watch. There was no way he was sleeping that night. Not with the verdict on whether Rhody would live or die up in the air like it was. He didn't even know if Virginia was treating her, or if she even knew Rhody was there. The feeling of useless had hung heavy over him all through the night.  
“Alfred Frederick Jones!” The stern shout broke the silence if the red and orange sunrise that Alfred was watching. he didn't have to turn to see Virginia storming towards him, brown eyes angry and puffy red from lack of sleep, sandy blond hair, usually done up in a neat bun nowadays, falling out in strands and frizzled. She forced him to turn to face her, slapping him in the face before anything else, “Why the hell did you let her come over here?! Why the hell is she here? Why did you let this happen...oh god how did we let this happen.” Her anger quickly dissipated into tears as she questioned him, easily collapsing into his chest, sobbing. He held her close, the blood of the wounded on her uniform and hands smearing into his own, he didn't really care. She had tended to Rhody, Alfred realized, and the blood was hers. Alfred held her close, running calloused fingers through her hair, working it out of the sorry remains of its bun and all the knots that came with it.  
Alfred let her cry into his chest, forcing back his own tears. He would cry later, right now he was focused on the crying sibling in his arms. He doesn't say anything. There wasn't anything too say. Virginia knew more about Rhody’s condition than him so it's not like he could tell her Rhody would be okay. So he waited, giving silent support to Virginia, praying Rhody would recover.  
The sun had turned the sky from burning fires to a bright blue, almost mocking Alfred and his family's pain, the plums of smoke and the scent of burnt body's hung heavy in the air. Just as the camp was waking up Virgina pulled away. Looking up at her nation with a tear stained face, her eyes immediately went to the red handprint on his cheek. “Oh, Alfred… I'm so sorry..” she breathed gently thumbing the warm skin, smearing flakes of dried blood over it.  
“It's fine Ginny, I'm alright.” He pulled her hand away, inspecting it for small cuts and picking at the dried blood, flaking it off, “Are you alright? You've been up all night.” And tending to Rhody hung unspoken between them.  
She nodded using her other hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear, “I'm fine, exhausted, but fine. I don't want to sleep, though, I don't want to leave her alone.”  
“Is she really that bad?” He didn't want the answer.  
Virginia nodded “Whatever they did to her, it left her too weak. She's in and out, on the edge of dying. She was unconscious when I left….I don't want her to die again, Alfred. She doesn't deserve it. She deserves to live.” Her explanation brought tears to her eyes again, her breath hitching.  
Alfred hushed her again, pulling her into another hug, “Rhody's strong, she'll pull through. She's going to get better. She's going to get better.” He repeated more to reassure himself than her at this point. He blinked back burning tears, he would cry later,his tears coming in the blood of his enemies rather than right now with salty tears and red eyes.  
It was Virgina that pulled away frost, whipping fresh tears from her eyes, “Oh lord, look at me. Crying again when I should be tending to my little sister.” Her laugh was half-hearted, more of an after cry hiccup than a laugh anyhow.  
Alfred rubbed her shoulder, “you're allowed to cry you know. Aloud to take a break too. You've done more for her than the rest of us combined.”   
Virginia shook her head, “You found her. If you hadn’t, then who knows how long she would be continually dying here.”  
That's when the missing piece of greasing fell into place, that's what made his heart really pick up and a tear tool down his paling, realizing face. Because Virginia was right. If no one had found Rhody then she would have been here for a long, long time. Her wounds festering into infections, her muscles wasting away as she starved for even longer. When, no, if whoever found her, didn't bury her on the spot, and acknowledged that she wasn't dead, then it would be a long, very long, so very long, road to recovery. If that had happened then he didn't think he, any of them really, would recognize their small state.   
It hit him then. All the weight of what was going on. The pain that Rhody felt a sudden flare before fading into a dull ache. He stumbled back, leaning against the chain link fence surrounding the camp, hands on his knees as he breathed heavy, the emotions of the states closest to him hitting jo full force. Virginia's worry as she came forward to gently massaged his shoulders. Marks unmatched rage, the need for revenge, a fighting drive Alfred haven't felt since the revolution burning through him. Nick's anger was almost overshadowed by Marks, always more level headed, the brains behind Marks anger. And then the wave of pain, of hunger, of the fresh stitches and infected wounds that were from Rhody, he felt sick the pain was so bad, oh god, oh god. How was she living like this?  
Virginia as thumbs wiping away his tears brought him back to reality, somewhat at least. He could still feel the physical and emotional aspects of his states, he always could. It was always hovering in the background of his mind. “Can we go see her?” He asked through the sick feeling.  
She nodded, following him as he began to walk away, first to get Mark and Nick, then to see Rhody. “I'm coming with you.”  
Alfred rounded on her then, not angry, but stern “No, your not.” He sighed when he saw how determined she was “at least grab some food and a coffee first, then after we leave, you're going to sleep.” She started to protest but stopped when he held a hand up, “You won't be any help to Rhody if you pass out from exhaustion. Now go get some food. You deserve it.” He kissed her forehead, pushing her to the food tent before heading to the tent Mark and Nick were.

 

 

The tent where the prisoners were being kept was made of a black cloth, so no one could see in it out. And Alfred thought it was for the best once he walked in and saw the six prisoners all curled up into themselves, faces bleeding and bruises over their bare chest. His two states where sitting, exhausted, at the small desk in the corner of the tent. Massachusetts with his head down, exhaustion finally overcoming the rage that was still burning in him, and Nick scribbling down some notes in a small notebook, looking just as tired as his dozing brother.  
Alfred cleared his throat, getting his state's attention. Both looked up and turned to him, squinting at the sunlight flooding the dark tent, one of the prisoners looked up at him too. Studying Alfred with hungry eyes. Alfred braved the tent, well aware of the prisoner's eyes on him, and his state's willingness to jump to his defense if anything happened.  
“Got anything useful from these bastards?” He decided to start with.  
Nick shook his head, Mark was still half awake. “These guys were mostly working in the hospital and were ordered to burn as much evidence as possible. They didn't even know Rhody was her, much less what she was. Seems like even in the ranks secrets were kept.” Nick glared at the prisoner that was still looking up at Alfred.  
“Du bist aryan nicht wahr? Warum arbeitest du mit ihnen Sie sind besser als si-” the prisoner didn't get a chance to finish what he was saying. Alfred turned and kicked him in the jaw, his super strength breaking it with a little crack.  
“Ich bin nicht besser als jeder andere, außer dir, du schmutziges Tier.” Alfred spat, his vicious tone making his states sit up a bit straighter. It was very rare that Alfred got mad. It happened so rarely that even the oldest states could count on one hand how often it had happened.  
Alfred's outburst sent the prisoner cowering back into a corner, his jaw hanging limply. “Go get someone to watch these animals. We're going to see Rhody once you do.” He growled at his state's, glaring down at the prisoners. Pure power seemed to be radiating off of him. This was the super power he was, the part of himself he kept tight under wraps. He knew the rest of the world would be afraid of him if this was the Alfred that saw all the time. His own states scurried out to follow his orders. This was not an Alfred to argue with, they knew that.  
Mark and nick returned with guards in tow a few minutes later. Alfred let go of his threading aura once he was out of the tent.  
“So you know how bad?” Mark asked he looked much older than his physical age of 16.  
Alfred shook his head. The dull throbbing pain that was emanating from Rhody in the back of his mind did not bode well. The three of them didn't say another word as they walked to the tent that she was being held in.

 

 

Alfred wanted to walk out as soon as he walked in. The stench of death was suffocating. Tired nurses and whatever soldiers they could spare were taking out dead bodies, emaciated and starved bodies. Most of them children, groaning in pain, in a rough sleep that threatened death, weakly reaching out to anyone for comfort. This was where Rhody was. In a tent where ninety percent of the children in it were going to die. The sick feeling from before returned, and only got worse when he saw a glint of his sisters choppy, close-cropped orange hair, the grime had been combed away so some of the colors shone through. But it was still dirty and blood mangled. Her skin which was normally pale but with a healthy glow looked almost translucent, at least the parts that you could see, the rest of her was covered in blood-stained gauze, her wounds still bleeding.   
Mark noticed her a split second after Alfred did. Rushing over to his sister's side before coming to a dead stop, uncertain as to what to do, Nick close on his heals and Alfred appearing on the other side of the low cot. She looked like a mummy.  
They stared down at her. None of them wanting to believe it was her. But it was undeniable. They could feel that it was her, thus was their sister. This was the end of her hell.  
“Oh god…” Mark breathed sinking to his knees, gently taking her bandaged hand. “What did they do to you, Rhody? What did they do?” Mark was speaking for all of them, but at the same time there was so much left unsaid, no combination of words could really express all of what they felt.  
“I'm going to kill him.” Nick forced out through clenched teeth, Alfred tore his eyes from their sister to look at his other state. Hands clenched at his side New York was in a rage. And with him being a strong state economically and technically the biggest out of the original thirteen his anger could wreak more havoc than Massachusetts. “I'm going to kill Ludwig. He did this, he knew who she was. I'm going to kill him for hurting her.” Nick's eyes told Alfred that he was serious.  
“You're not killing anyone right now.” Virginia came bustling in, looking a bit more put together than the last time Alfred had seen her.  
“How bad is she?” Mark asked, voice pleading, he was with family, he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. “Please, we need to know.”  
Virginia didn't answer for a moment, focusing on unwrapping the bloody bandage around Rhody's thin thigh revealing the deep, stitched up, a gash in it. She only started talking when she was wrapping it up, “I can't beat around the bush. She's bad. I'm surprised she's alive right now. But then again, she's stubborn.” Virginia allowed herself a reminiscent smile. “To break it down, from what we can tell she has infections in several places, some internal bleeding and hemorrhaging, that could cause problems. Burns, acid burns, frostbite. You name it she's got it. These bastards did a number on her. But that's just our evaluation, she could, probably does, have a lot more wrong with her. A doctor in London will need to look at her.”  
They were quiet, letting the information sink in. They imagined the horrors their sister was put through, they couldn't, not without wanting to punch Ludwig in the jaw.  
“We need to get her away from the front,” Mark said like it was an easy thing.  
“Mark, we can't. She's too… fragile, for lack of a better word. If we move her then….” she wouldn't say the obvious, she couldn't say ‘she'll die’.   
“Then we move the front away from her. Push farther into Germany, meet up with the English or Canadians or Russians.” Mark was getting desperate now, wide-eyed and basically pleading to do this impossible thing.  
Alfred shook his head, “Mark you know that's harder than it sounds. It goes against our pla-”  
“Like hell, I give a damn about the plans!” Mark shouted standing letting Rhody’s hand fall to the bed, turning on Alfred, “We need to end this war and tear these damn camps apart, make sure no one else has to fucking live through this hell.”  
Nick put a restraining hand on his brother's shoulder, “That's enough Mark. We shouldn't be getting worked up over this.”  
“Like hell, we shouldn't! There are people dying, hoards if people. It's not right. And the sooner this war is over with the sooner those people can get help. It just so happened that Rhody is the worst out of all of them.” He was getting mad, glaring at Nick and throwing his hand off. He was about to start shouting, Alfred had to step in then. Reaching over Rhody in the cot to cover Mark’s mouth. 

 

“If you two are going to argue about this, so it somewhere else. This is not the time nor the place for it.” Alfred's threatening aura was coming back, seeping into his stern voice. He watched as the anger dissipated from his state's shoulders.  
Seeing that there would be no further arguing Alfred let go of Mark. Going to sit back down and take Rhody’s hand again. Wishing against reality that she was awake to bicker with them. But no, real life was just that cruel. And now all they could do was wait.  
The rest of the war was fought in a haze of worry filled rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations   
> you're Aryan aren't you? why are you working with them? you're better than them!  
> I'm no better than anyone but you, you filthy animal


End file.
